Absolutely (Larson)

by Melissa Veracruz

“Muse, Radiohead, Cake, The Warped Tour, Austin City Limits… You are my hero,” she says in awe. “Have you been to all these?”

  “Yup,” I say, going to stand behind her. I let my hands creep up her arms and cup her shoulders. “I'm going to ACL again this fall. Well, I was going…”

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “It’s in October, still football season. I was banking on Jacob, you know, being on the team. That plan got shot to hell. Now I have a three-day pass to one of the best festivals that I can’t use.” Yeah, I'm holding onto that Jacob grudge for more than the obvious reasons. The jerk has no idea. The only thing I can do is sell the tickets online closer to the date.

  “Kiel, that freaking sucks!” she says, mad for me. She spins around to face me. As upset as I am at the mention of missing ACL, I'm enthralled by the twirl of the dress and the girl in it. “Crap. I'm really, really sorry. That’s kind of my fault.”

  I frown and pull her into a loose hug. “Nah. It’s Jacob’s fault, no doubt. So, yeah, it sucks. I’m pissed at him not you.”

  “Ha. Black one of his eyes for me if you are ever so inclined.”

  “I didn’t ask you here so we could plot our vengeance. Or to talk about anyone else but you and me.” I run my hands up and down her bared arms. I've been working on something for her, but it’s more of a show, not tell.

  “What, exactly, did you ask me here for?” she murmurs.

  “You can’t guess?” I take her face between my hands and lean down. We’re breathing the same air. “Not a single guess?”

  What I love about Ashlyn? She’s never been shy with me about what she wants. Her lips are on mine quickly. Quicker than I can ponder my use of the word ‘love’ in the same thought-sentence as her name. In fact, within two seconds, her tongue teases mine.

  With no true furniture to speak of except two stools, I back us up slowly so I can lean on the wall. She settles in between my legs, leaning forward.

  Ashlyn’s hands have moved to my chest while we’ve been kissing. She runs the tips of her fingers down until they're at the bottom of my shirt, then under it. I'm pretty sure I'm partial to her brand of aggressive.

  ***

  Ashlyn

  My hands? They're under Kiel’s shirt like our roles are reversed.

  Hey. He’s already had his hands up my shirt. This isn’t moving too fast, right? It’s a guy’s chest, after all. No biggie.

  My fingers trace his rock-hard abs, one at a time following the ridges. I make a valiant attempt to remember that his mom is only one doorway away. But I can’t. The heat and surprising smoothness of his skin is addictive. I tug his shirt up.

  Who the heck am I? Who is this person ripping clothes off a guy? I doubt this is going far to show him the rumors are baseless. Not that I care…

  My kisses are paused as he helps me yank the shirt off. The moment I've been waiting for and Kiel does not disappoint. I take a tiny step back to admire him. He watches me with heat in his eyes. I can’t hang back any longer, getting my hands back on his body, roaming over every exposed bit. I feel emboldened and there’s no shyness.

  Kiel’s breathing is hitched, which I suppose is a good sign. I stop and step into his embrace. Our lips meet and he reaches past my hips to cup my bottom. He lifts me up, my legs naturally going around his waist. I brace my hands on his shoulders. I'm completely aware of where this could lead (with or without his family nearby); however, my body divorced my mind weeks ago.

  Our kisses are getting desperate; Kiel’s grip tightens. On a very deep sigh, he breaks the kiss, leaning his head back on the garage wall. I can feel the war waging below, so I recognize stopping is difficult for him. I have my own raging hormones to contend with.

  Yet, Kiel hasn’t released me from his hold. I'm still perched on him. Every time he shifts, it’s memorable.

  We’re watching each other intently to see which one of us will back down first. Oh, it so won’t be me!

  The more responsible of the two of us, Kiel lets me down slowly. His hands, though…he allows them to get caught on the hem of my dress. It rides up my thighs, exposing my lace-trimmed white panties. Yeah, that makes me blush.

  Here’s the deal…Being a cheerleader, most of the town has seen me in my spankies. About half the high school population has seen me in a bikini. This may not seem like a big deal from that perspective…But my panties aren’t opaque or exactly concealing.

  Kiel is grinning and shirtless. An almost-deadly combo. I am about two seconds away from leaping back into his arms. His buzzing phone saves him from being attacked. He digs in his pocket for it, still watching me. In case I do jump.

  He moves his eyes from mine for the time it takes to read the message and tap out his reply. When he looks back up, he appears more composed. Can’t say that about myself…He's still shirtless.

  The fact of his shirtlessness does not escape him—maybe because I'm still staring.

  Dang! I should’ve been more subtle. He’s grabbing his shirt off the floor and goes to put it on. I pout, an honest-to-goodness pout. I reach out my hands to stop him from getting it past his chest.

  “Can’t you give me like two or three more minutes?” I beg. He laughs. We both know covering up that body will keep us out of trouble.

  “Maybe later,” he promises and pats me on my cheek—the one on my face. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes, hoping it’ll change his mind. No such luck. I toss my head back and let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “Exactly,” he says and nods. “Back to why I brought you here early.”

  “That wasn’t it either? Now I am mystified,” and annoyed, I don’t add. What could top a make-out session that includes exposed skin?

  “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “Come here,” he insists. I go to where he’s getting settled on a stool with a guitar in hand. He already has it plugged in and starts to pluck it, finding the right note. My eyes go to his. He smiles up at me.

  The tune of a certain song comes from the strings. I'm standing in front of him, already entranced. I clasp my hands under my chin and sway a little.

  But when his voice joins the strains from the guitar, I sink to the floor. He's singing “Love It All” for me. For me? No, to me. I pull my knees up not caring that he has a peep show.

  It doesn’t matter, because his eyes are fixed on mine. I’m captivated by his lips and the words coming out of them. I barely mouth the words when he hits the chorus. My eyes are watery. The guitar goes silent as he softly sings the last words.

  Love it all love it all. Love. It. All.

  I sit, still mesmerized. Neither of us is moving. It’s another of those moments frozen in time. I'm truly afraid that if I went near him right now, there would be no stopping me.

  “That’s why I wanted you here early,” he says softly. I put my hands in prayer position in front of my mouth. There are no words that would aptly describe the emotions chasing around inside me.

  “That was beautiful,” I manage to say. “More than beautiful, actually.” I look away. I'm craving the chocolate of his eyes. They're calling to me.

  “What’s wrong?” he says, concern in his voice. I choke out laughter, sounding like a strangled animal and shake my head.

  Kiel makes a crucial decision in that next instant. He gets down from the stool and sets his guitar down. Kneeling in front of me, he frowns. Before he can say The Kooks, I'm up on my knees, practically tackling him.

  ***

  Kiel

  How did Ashlyn get on top of me? I don’t think I’ll ever figure that one out. One minute I'm kneeling in front of her thinking I've screwed up, and the next, I'm on my back in a tangle of arms and legs. In the time it took to get from kneeling to being straddled by a beautiful girl, my brain blanked out. I couldn’t protest if I wanted to anyway.

  She graciously cradled my head somehow, not letting it hit the cement floor. Her head is bent to mine. Evidently, I didn’t screw up…

  “Nothing’s wrong. That was perfect. Yo
u are perfect.”

  Damn. Just damn. I groan.

  Recapping the events of today mentally: She pinned me to a wall, tore off my shirt, felt me up, let me see her panties, and threw me down. I'm more turned on than I think I have ever been. She might be one of those girls who are susceptible to guys who play guitar. Or it could’ve been my voice and that song. I hope for the latter.

  Ashlyn giggles and splays her hands out on my chest. She leans back on my bent legs.

  “Kiel,” she whispers. All the silliness has suddenly disappeared from her features. “I—”

  But there’s a knock on the door leading to the house.

  “Kiel!” an unhappy Lili shouts from the other side. “Mom wants to know if you and your guest want anything for lunch.” Then in a low grumble, “aside from each other’s spit.”

  She needs serious mental help.

  Raising my head up a little to look at Ashlyn for confirmation, she says quietly, “Absolutely.” It may be wishful thinking, but it sounded like she wasn’t answering the lunch question. I let my head fall back to the cement and groan internally.

  “Yeah, Lili, thanks,” I reply. “Tell me when it’s ready.” I hear her stomp off.

  Sitting up with her still in my lap, our faces are level. It’s profoundly intimate. I’ve never felt this in the past with anyone. I make the first move, controlling this kiss. I want slow and deep. One of my hands holds her cheek, the other slips around her waist.

  Ashlyn manages to keep her hands in check, holding them out resting on my shoulders.

  There's another knock on the door. I break from the kiss to holler, “Dang, Lili, what now?”

  “Mijo.” I groan as Mom continues, “Just wanted to check on you.” As soon as she said mijo, I'm popping up, straightening Ashlyn’s dress. Ashlyn, damn her, is stifling another giggle. She wouldn’t be if she’d ever been caught by my mom. I speak from experience.

  Her ponytail is no longer sleeked back. “Tell me you have a mirror and a brush in your purse,” I say. She hiccups, untangles herself with little grace, and rushes to her purse which was thrown haphazardly down by the door.

  Ashlyn fixes her hair then walks around the garage looking everywhere and asking random questions.

  It’s not long before Mom comes back to tell us it’s time to eat. My mom has gone all out, judging by the spread, she was more than prepared to feed an extra person. It’s more like brunch. Fried potatoes and scrambled eggs, sopa, guacamole salad, corn tortillas. Even Mexican Coke in glass bottles.

  She smiles at my mom. She needs to pass every test Mom throws at her today. I have faith she will. Mom piles Ashlyn’s plate with food, and Ashlyn, trooper that she is, eats most of it. She scoops the last of her sopa and potatoes with a piece of corn tortilla and her eyes roll back in ecstasy.

  I grin and playfully jab her in the arm.

  “Don’t you dare tell my mom I'm cheating on her sopa.”

  Liliana rolls her eyes back in annoyance. I jab her arm too, not playfully. The clock says it’s fifteen ‘til twelve. “Time to get this show on the road.” I drag Ashlyn back out to the garage. Alone for a few minutes longer, I hug her tight and place chaste kisses all over her face until I absolutely have to let her go and open the garage door.

  Not too long afterward, the guys start arriving. Liam Donald with Sean Stevens not far behind show first. Robbie Lester shows up with Marisa Yanez in tow. He must have bragged to her about the auditions. No matter, Ashlyn still gets the only seat even if I have to push Marisa off.

  Matt Thomas and Chris Winston arrive and we’re ready to get down to business. This is a good showing. I get the guys set up.

  Liam and Matt show off their drumming skills on the songs I gave them to practice. One by The Strokes and one by Muse. Robbie is the only bass guitarist to show up, so it’s his as long as he can play. I motion for him to play along as each guy takes his turn.

  I watch Ashlyn’s lips move along to “The End Has No End.” Recalling that she had it right when she guessed my band would be more like The Strokes.

  Sean and Chris claim to be electric guitarists, but each one fails miserably. They're both beginners. Early stages. Even Maria flinches, for heaven’s sake.

  I excuse them both immediately, telling them I'm sorry and to keep working on their skills. I get Robbie back plucking away at a Muse song and give the drummers another shot each to see who’s got it. The bad news goes to Matt.

  I have a bassist, a drummer, and me singing and playing acoustic guitar. Not bad for a start. I'm resigned to playing electric if I have to. I'm talking to the guys when I hear Ashlyn say, “Hey, Miller!” I turn, shocked to see Miller carrying a guitar bag. He simply shrugs.

  Ashlyn is now texting away like there's a flame chasing her fingers.

  Chapter 16

  Ashlyn

  The band is almost complete, it looks like. Can’t pretend I understand what makes a band. I'm a listener, not a player. My mind keeps slipping back to when I was straddling him on this floor. Right over there, where Robbie is standing.

  It was intense with barely any material between the two of us. Marvelous. Until his sister, then his mom, had knocked. It was insane but funny the way he jumped up at his mom’s voice. All those muscles and swagger. Just her voice!

  I'm still not entirely sure what Marisa is doing here. Groupie much? The curveball-of-the-day award, though? That goes to Miller who walks up as if this isn’t a startling revelation. He pulls out this sparkly guitar that Kiel fawns over like it’s part of my anatomy.

  Yes, I am texting D'Nae to get her butt here.

  Miller is strumming the song by The Strokes, and I know he’s a great guitarist. My attention is caught by Kiel slinging his acoustic guitar onto his shoulder. He steps out, like there’s a mic, to start singing. Robbie and Liam join in.

  I'm sucked in by the newly formed group. Ok, so maybe I could care less about the other guys. They're far from perfect. But Kiel’s voice? A dream.

  Jenna and D'Nae arrive. Jenna must have gunned it to be here so soon. They walk up and sway along with me. Why has it taken me until this year to find these two? The guys start into another song they all know.

  My eyes cut to Miller who is actually watching D'Nae. No way! A thrill runs through me as I meet Kiel’s eyes.

  The guys finish jamming and move on to planning. After chatting for a few minutes, I pull the girls outside so we can plan. Before I even get a girl-squeal in, Miller is walking toward us.

  Liam, however, jogs ahead of him and asks D'Nae how things are going. I forgot they had been at that dance together. Ah, man. Didn’t see that coming. Miller plows by us and heads straight to his truck.

  “Hey, Liam,” Kiel yells motioning him back. “Do you have your own drum set?” Kiel jerks his head in Miller’s direction. D'Nae turns around and races to Miller’s window. She says something that has him nodding at her. He still seems tense. Could it be because we’re all watching, antsy?

  She walks back to us. Trying to pry out of D'Nae what went down was about as productive as Union workers on break. They leave with Jenna still interrogating her.

  ***

  It’s four o’clock by the time everyone leaves. We have some time to kill.

  “Let’s go to my room,” Kiel says.

  “Oh, that is such a bad idea,” I mumble. He chuckles. But we actually succeed in not mauling each other for most of the two hours. I went through his vinyl collection, playing a few on his record player. Then I surfed his iPod and Pandora stations.

  And I did my version of dancing for him. Cheerleaders are, in fact, dancers who have gone retarded. I admit it, openly. There's no shame in it.

  Kiel is laying back on his bed, propped up on the headboard. I ‘dance’ over to him and sit by his feet.

  “Kiel,” I say, “Last night—how to ask this? You started acting weird. Why?”

  He sits up straight and sighs, rubbing his face. He has to have seen this coming.

  “Just crap going
on in the locker room. That’s all.”

  “But it was about me, right?”

  “Ash,” he says, sounding tired. He wants me to drop it, let it go. But I can’t.

  I am all but begging. “Kiel, tell me please, so I know. So I can address it. So I can fix it, clear up any questions about me. It’s a big, freaking elephant that’s sticking around.” Maybe I did beg, after all.

  He closes his eyes, leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Do you really want to know? Even if it hurts you?”

  “You can’t seem to get past it. I need to know, Kiel.”

  “Ok. Fine,” he says and diverts his eyes to a spot over my shoulder. I pull my legs up under me, bracing myself for whatever it was. “Jackson was mouthing off—” he pauses. I wait, or at least try to. My fingers tap on my legs.

  “He asked—Ash, I don’t want to do this right now.”

  “Say it,” I demand and slap his leg.

  “Ow. Dang, Ash. Ok. I was defending you and he asked—he asked if I was defending you because I was…screwing you.” His face is red, recounting the ugly word that Jackson used.

  “That’s easy to clear up. We’re not. On to why it’s bothering you.” I say impatiently. Even though I will categorically hate what he is about to say. “Say it. Ask me.” I say, slapping his leg with each word. I'm surprised he hasn’t moved to the chair to avoid the abuse.

  Kiel pounds his head on the headboard, knowing he’s gotta come clean. I am ready to walk out. I get up to find my shoes and purse. I’ll to leave him to his thoughts.

  “Ashlyn, come back,” he whispers, pleading with me. I don’t move, so he asks, “Ash. How many guys have you…been with?”

  ***

  Kiel

  I am so stupid. No, stupid doesn’t begin to cover it. How have I allowed myself to be in this position? Ashlyn’s past truly has nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with the now. It’s more that I hate to think she's been with any of those jerks that hit on her. That even one word of the garbage being said is true.

  In the garage during the auditions and impromptu jam session, her spirit shone through. I had watched her watching me. I felt every glance, known exactly what she was thinking of when her eyes strayed.